Butterflies were her delight, her passion, as she danced through life.

Her heart would flutter with joy at the sight of wings, purple and speckled with silver, painting the air with their grace.

Like her beloved butterflies, she too passed through the seasons—beautiful, fleeting, and now, gone.

Yet, within my heart, her wings still flutter, a gentle presence that lingers, a reminder of her love that will never fade.

In every butterfly’s flight, I see her—her spirit soaring, free and eternal, carried on the winds of memory.